


it's so fluffy!

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [208]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Carnival, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, all the fluff in nine realms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2159520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I thought we were banned from fairs?" James asks him, hands tucked into his pockets, hair windblown and loose, and looking at him makes Clint feel <i>old</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's so fluffy!

**Author's Note:**

> Title: it’s so fluffy!  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: post-WS by a lot  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 275  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: MCU, Clint +/any, The Carnival Job [Leverage]

"I thought we were banned from fairs?" James asks him, hands tucked into his pockets, hair windblown and loose, and looking at him makes Clint feel _old_. He's in his forties now. Fuck. When did that happen? 

"You gonna tell?" he asks, shaking it off. So what if he never expected to survive his twenties? He's that awesome. 

"No," James says, looking around with curiosity. How long’s it been since he did something just because it was _fun_? Probably not in Clint’s lifetime.

Tasha’s gonna kill him for taking James out without permission, but Clint knows about mistrust and trying to earn redemption, and this kid – he spends most of his time in his head, tucked away somewhere, and Clint knows that’s not the way to get better.

So here they are at a carnival upstate, with the rigged games and the sugar comas and the dangerous rides. There’s a little girl crying two rows over, tugging at her dad’s shirt, and he’s arguing with the guy about guns that don’t shoot right. 

Clint raises any eyebrow. “How about a friendly wager?” he asks. 

James glances at him. He really does look like he’s twenty, max. It’s gotta be the fluffy hair. Or the anime eyes. One of ‘em. “And what’s that?” He looks awake and alive, here. Clint pats himself on the back. 

“Whoever wins the most prizes for the little kids gets to pick where we go for dinner,” Clint says. “And whoever wins the least has to pay for it.” 

James smiles, soft and slow. “You’re on.” 

Yeah. Tasha’s gonna kick his ass for this, but it’ll be worth it, for that smile alone.


End file.
